


That's Not Living

by MysticallyGallavich



Series: Prompts for my lovelies [36]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, ArtistMickey, BeautifulBoys, EarlyDiagnosis, Endgame Forever, Firsttimes, Fluff, Gallavich, Happy, Learningtolive, Learningtoseethelightness, Living, Losingcontrol, Love, M/M, Prompts!, ScaredIan, Smut, SofterMick, and, flowercrown, loving, mickeyandian - Freeform, notcannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 13:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticallyGallavich/pseuds/MysticallyGallavich
Summary: Prompt:What if Ian was diagnosed early, and he's scared of becoming his mother so he doesn't date or sleep around, he focuses on school or work. Along comes Artist!Mickey who wears flower crowns and picks fights with homophobes, tho he can't fight. For the first time in his life Ian has a crush on the pretty guy who draws during class. One day Mickey is attacked and Ian rushes in to help. They meet and Mickey gives Ian a flower crown and teaches him how to draw. they fall in love, the rest is history.





	That's Not Living

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my loves! This prompt is a long time coming. Hope you like. Warning the prompt was OOC especially for Mickey. I tried to incorporate pieces of our boys weaved in, but it is still OOC. Enjoy. 
> 
> Thank you to the other half of my brain for going over this with me and giving me so many ideas. ;) ELA!

There was one thing that was true in Ian Gallagher’s life, he was afraid…of what? Everything really.  He had spent his life in this permanent darkness. Always afraid to do something fun, or be who he as because who he was.  Was Monica Gallagher’s son, just like her in every way, that is what he was really afraid of.  That too much happiness would mean he was manic, or if he stayed in bed too long he was depressive.  He had known he was bi-polar since he was a child, and ever since that day, he had known his life was over as he knew it.  He took his meds, went to school. Studied, to become a boring accountant. His life was going to be filled with safe choices, if it was the last thing he did. He would not be a damn bit like Monica. Not ever.

 

He was walking down the sidewalk on the way to school when he saw the guy again. He was a cute guy that was in one of Ian’s classes, Ian always noticed him, mainly because he sat in front of Ian and drew things instead of paying attention.  He was always drawing something, and so Ian took notice, he had actually thought for a second that it would be another good way to distract himself, but quickly learned he couldn’t draw for shit, so he had given up on that, but when he was in class he watched the dark haired boy draw his pictures.  He also watched him sometimes as he passed by him on lunch.   He liked to make himself flower crowns and Ian thought it was beyond adorable that he liked to do that and didn’t give a damn what anybody thought of him.

 

Sometimes, Ian would get lost in himself and imagine what he would be like if he hadn’t been diagnosed so early? Or even at all.  Would he be carefree and happy the way the cute dark haired boy was, would he be like his siblings that seemed to live life on the edge.  Or would he still be just like he was now, quiet and withdrawn, he didn’t believe that he would be, he believed life would be more simple if he wasn’t so afraid of being like Monica.  The free spirit that she was could be calming, but ultimately the idea of being what she was at her worst, is exactly why he was the way he was.

 

 

He sees the boy look up from the ground and take him in and he smiles, and fuck if that smile isn’t intoxicating.  Those bright blue eyes looking up at him, soft and kind. “Hi.” The boy says and Ian looks away suddenly and keeps walking. As much as he wants to know this beautiful creature, he would just mess things up for him.  People like that didn’t need people like him. He knew that much, so he walked away from the mesmerizing creature.

 

\--

 

It was a habit that continued, everyday he saw the guy, and every day he would take a minute, a minute out of his perfectly organized life to stare at the beautiful boy and then he would grab up his courage and make his way to walk away from the boy. He didn’t think he ever noticed, at least the boy didn’t look up or acknowledge that he was there and that was good enough for Ian.

 

 

 

    It was safe this way. The mere presence of the boy captivated Ian, it would be a disaster if the boy noticed him, because Ian knew that beautiful boy could probably get him to do anything he wanted and that alone was dangerous. So very dangerous.

 

\--

 

Mickey Milkovich was hardly the boy that people around him thought he was. He knew what it looked like, he was carefree, artistic, not a care  in the whole world. Mickey had one common philosophy in his current life, far away from the troubles that had once so often troubled him.  Life is  what you make it. So a scared, angry boy that had been raised in fear of who he was, what he was, had gotten out. Out from under his fathers clutches. He had went off to college and he became who he wanted to be.  He no longer fought and stole for everything in his life. He had enough of all of that. So he  went to class and mostly  did his work, but most of the time he drew. His art major afforded  him that. He loved art, the way he felt with that pencil in his hand, the way he let it all take over him and make him a different…better man.

 

He had noticed the cute red-head on more than one occasion. He had noticed the boy look at him in a mild fascination but the red-head was quiet and focused on everything that never really interested Mickey. He often wondered if the quiet boy was fascinated by his drawing or his lack of focus. Maybe he thought horrible things of Mickey, and Mostly Mickey didn’t care. He didn’t have the time or energy to explain to some random person his choices and his life. But sometimes he did care, sometimes he wondered what it was about the red-head  that made him care all that much about it all.

 

Sometimes, there was a very rare moment where he wondered what it would take to make that pretty boy come out of his comfort zone, what it would take to make the boy show a little bit more…emotion. These moments however always ended in Mickey deciding that it just wasn’t worth the effort. There was something in the boys eyes that scared Mickey. Some sort of darkness and Mickey thought maybe he nor the other man wanted to know what happened if that was unleashed.

 

\--

 

 

 Mickey was sitting cross-legged in the grassy at say. On the surface Mickey might seem innocent and sweet, which made other people think that he was an easy target. Which always managed to bring out Mickeys south side roots. Which is why, out of habit when a couple of girls were staring openly at him, chuckling, obviously entirely too amused for Mickeys tastes. He lets out a growl, his carefree smile replaced by his classic Milkovich glare. “The fuck are you looking at?” He bites put as they scurry off.

 

He hears a chuckle from far away but he can’t see the boy it belongs to z he wonders if it could possibly belong to a certain cute red-$3-: that was full of curiosity. Mickey wondered why he didn’t yell at the red head who hated being looked at. But yet when it kind of made him smile when said boy looked at him.

 

The problem with being in this new place, away from the south-side, away from all his demons, is it gave Mickey a sense of safety, security, no longer on edge all the time. Letting his mind wander to a beauty of a man that he would probably never talk to. That wasn’t a problem in itself, the problem was, had he not been focused on that, he might have seen the five men coming up behind, him readying for the attack, but he didn’t. Had he seen them, he could of prepared to put up some simbalance of a fight, he probably could of even taken out one or two of them, but it happened suddenly, he was under attack and he was in shock. He finally let the shock pass over him and he started swinging, getting a couple of good hits in.  He was gaining control, over these assholes, who were sputtering some basic hate speech. Basic world order he supposed, there was hate everywhere, he wasn’t afraid of it, not any longer, he swung again clipping some idiot in the saw. “Scrappy little fairy, aint he?” the guys friend spoke as they  gripped Mickey harder, Mickey prepared to swing his legs into the other guys chest, when he felt the assholes behind him let go of his arms, there was a loud thud as if they had fallen, and he would have turned around to see what was happening, but he was focused on the idiots in front of him.

 

By the time he took the two in front of him down he finally turned to see three extremely large men laying on the ground bleeding. And he looked around to see any signs of who had helped him out, it was then that he looked up at the tree closest to him to see the beautiful red-head leaning up against it smiling. At first he wondered if he had seen anything, but his eyes landed on the mans hands, they were caked in blood, and he eyed him. He had been the one? That kid? The quiet one? OH now he definitely needed to know this guy.

 

“I could have taken them all,” Mickey says but the kid just smiles brightly.

 

“I know.”

 

“Who are you?” Mickey asks needing to put a name to that fascinating face.

 

“Ian.” He answers. The kid looks oddly proud of himself at the moment, amazed at his own ability, and Mickey smiles at him.

 

“Mickey,” Mickey says, and Ian nods.

 

“I know.”  He says softly and Mickey raises an eyebrow.

 

“You stalking me red?” He asks him, lightheartedly, in a joking manner.

 

“Nope.” Ian says.  They chat for a few minutes longer, Ian laughs in this light and airy way, and he actually talks as they sit beside the tree.  Finally Mickey suggests getting cleaned up and they head into the building. Ian stays full of energy for a while until he places his hands under the sing and watches the blood come off his hands, it’s then that as Mickey watches him, he see’s his eyes go dark and he starts to shake lightly.

 

“Ian?” Mickey asks, but Ian shakes his head, seemingly to get out of his own mind and he moves back to stand against the wall and falls slightly. 

 

“What Have I Done?” he whispers.

 

“Hey, are you okay?” Mickey asks and leans down in front of Ian, he doesn’t know why, but he needs to help.

 

Ian’s mind is going a million miles a minute.  He had lost control, when he saw them hurting the beautiful boy, his rage had toppled over, he always kept feelings like that pushed down as far as they would go. Never losing control was his life but he had let it go and as good as I had felt in the moment.  Now his fear was taking over, he didn’t regret helping Mickey, and he would do it again but it scared him.

\--

 

 Mickey seeks Ian out the next day, he finds Ian laying down under te tree, seemingly lost in thought.

 

“Hey, Tornado.” He says sitting next to him and Ian squints his eyes at him in confusion.

 

“What?”

 

“Nerd Tornado, that’s what imma call you now. You’re all quiet and look innocent, and the BAM, like a tornado you kick the shit out of all those assholes.” Mickey smiles at him and Ian smiles back lightly even though the nickname kind of makes him thnk that maybe he is like that, except…Tornado sounds a lot like Hurricane Monica, which is what his siblings call his mother…and that scares him even more. He looks down at the thought.

 

“I don’t know if I like the comparison.” He says honestly.

 

“Alright…Alright…I’m still going to call you that though.” Mickey says. Ian laughs lightly at watches Mickey.    “So How did you learn all that stuff? You in a secret fight club or something?” Mickey asks and Ian shakes his head laughing.

 

“Nah…Just comes with the south-side roots I guess. I don’t like fighting.”  Mickey agrees with that, he doesn’t like fighting either. He knows how to take care of himself for sure. But after spending his entire childhood fighting just to survive, he doesn’t have much interest in it. Not here anyway, he wasn’t so nieve that he thought he wouldn’t have to go back to how things were when he went home. Fighting to survive in his house was just how things were.

 

“South-side huh? You don’t look it.” Mickey says getting out his paper and pencils and sketching absentmindedly on his pad. 

 

“I try not to really. What are you working on?” Ian said looking over at Mickey.

 

“Dunno Yet. Just doodling.” He says simply and Ian snorts looking closer at the shades. He didn’t know what would come of it , but he could tell already it wasn’t a mere doodle.

 

“If that’s a doodle…then I’m screwed.” Ian said chuckling.

 

“You like art?” Mickey asks looking up into Ian’s eyes, studying his face for a moment before looking back down to focus.

 

“I like the look of it. I thought…maybe…nevermind. It’s stupid.” Ian says shaking his head and Mickey looks up again.

 

“You have a sadness in your eyes. It’s tragic yet beautiful.” Mickey speaks and then seems to think about what to say. Words seem to come harder for Mickey than art, which he does seamlessly. "What did you think?" He seems to find himself to ask the question he intended. It seems Mickey gets lost in his own thoughts. Ian wonders if that happens often.

 

"Just maybe it would help...me stay grounded, but...I suck at it." He laughs lightly and he watches the thoughts turn in Mickey's head, it's like he can see him turn them over one by one. He wonders how he does that. His facial expressions changing ever so often, but he never stops his drawing, like it's just there, something that is him.

 

"Ever try not to draw objects and instead...just anything, designs...whatever?" Mickey asks, as he continues to study Ian's face and Ian briefly wonders about that.  He doesn’t have to wonder for long because Mickey looks down and nods, and turns the page before Ian can look down again. He wonders what he had finally made out of his drawing but he doesn’t ask. For some people that kind of thing is deeply personal, and he doesn’t want to make Mickey mad. Somehow he doesn’t think a mad Mickey is something he wants to see right at this moment.

 

"come here, I'll show you." Mickey says and scoots closer to Ian, he sets the paper in front of Ian and comes behind him Putting the Pencil in Ian's hand.  He moves Ian's hand with his own, drawing a simple line.  "Start with a line, and just let it take you. Sometimes it will seem like nothing is there, until it is, sometimes nothing will come of it. It isn't about what it looks like sometimes, but about how you feel when you are doing it."  Ian listens and lets Mickey guide his hand slowly, creating more of a shape. It's true it looks like nothing, but for some reason, Ian really likes it, likes the way it feels to draw simple lines, or rather be directed by Mickey's hand on his.

 

-x-x-x

 

(Three weeks later)

 

Ian watches Mickey across his dorm room, they had gotten to hanging out more often. Mickey draws all the time, Ian tries sometimes, and he finds that no matter the finished product, Mickey was right. It feels better in the act of moving his pencil across a piece of paper. That makes him smile.  Late one night he had told Mickey the truth about himself. A truth he hadn't spoke in a very long time, a truth that broke him down. That made him broken. He had expected Mickey to give him the looks that most people do. That look of fear or shame, or fake sympathy, but he hadn't. In fact Mickey never seemed to look at him like that. He looked at him in wonderment, amazement sometimes. And He was always in deep thought. He wasn't really sure about much of anything. He hadn't said anything about it that night, or since then.

 

"You know how you told me about you...your stuff," Mickey says in deep thought while moving his pencil quickly over his paper.

 

"Do you ever talk without drawing?" Ian asks quickly, he doesn’t mean to offend him, he is honestly just curious.

 

"Not usually. I mean, I do. But when I think, it helps me. I can't do this at home...My dad...He doesn't like art. He hates me." Mickey says sadly, and his Pencil seems to push down harder, as if it hurts to say the words.

 

"I'm sure he doesn't." Ian tries.

 

"He does. He hates this...He hates what I am. Not much I can do about that, gave up a long time ago. It doesn't matter. Here I can do this, and be free. I'm not free there.  What you said about how you hold back so much because of your illness got me thinking, you doing that, makes you...not free too. Don't you want to be free?" He asks quietly, as if its as simple as all that.

 

"Sure...But I can't ever really be free, ya know? Either I'm medicated, and cautious...or I let it all go, and my mind has control over me. HOw can I ever really be free either way?" He asks.

 

"Ever consider that you can be medicated...without being so...Boring?" Mickey chuckles at himself. "Ever consider that maybe...being free isn't about the medication but about what you do with it?  it gives you the ability to hold your mind in place doesn't? So why are you so afraid to find something...that makes you feel free, instead of trapped in the circumstances that were given to you?" Mickey seems awfully contemplative today Ian notices. He does think about that though? Was it possible to be happy, and still be safe from his demons?

 

"How so?" Mickey asks.

 

"What makes you happy? Makes you feel betteR?"

 

"Talking to you does." Ian shrugs and Mickey looks up, studying him, he flips back a few pages, abandoning whatever he was working on, and continues on something else.

 

"Look at me for a second." He says, Ian does, he feels pulled in by the eyes looking back at him, and Mickey's face softens, out of concentration, he doesn't look back down until he seems to be done and he looks back at his work and smiles.  He walks over to the other bed and tears out the drawing, which Ian is sure, he has never seen him do. Mickey smiles lightly.

 

"Sometimes your eyes show this beautiful captured fire trying to get out. I think you hold it back because you think it'll hurt you. I think that maybe, if you let that fire out...You might find something completely different." Mickey says before leaving.

 

 

Ian looks down at the paper in his lap to find himself looking up. Mickey had drawn him. He found that in that moment, maybe Mickey was right...maybe there was something to some of it.

 

-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Come with me," Mickey says to Ian early Saturday morning.

 

"What are we doing?" Ian asks half awake.

 

"Fighting Demons."

 

"What do you mean? Demons?"

 

"We all have our demons Ian. Mine come in the form of this." He shows Ian a drawing of a big, angry-looking giant. He looks mean, and cruel and yet Ian thinks he recognizes him from somewhere.  "my father...a little embellished...but still...Yours come in different forms. Drawing isn't the only thing that helps. Today we fight them southside style. Then later, we go a little softer, and I'll show you something, something I think you'll like."  Ian nods and follows Mickey. He had been doing that a lot more lately.

 

Mickey smirked as they entered an old run down building. It had taken him a long time to find this one. Home it was easy to find places like this, around here, not as much.  He pulled a gun out of his back pocket and Ian looked like he was going to jump out of his skin.

 

"Nothing to be scared of. It's a product of where we come from. Sometimes, shooting at something, helps clear the mind. I'm not all sunshine and roses over here." Mickey says, looking intensely at him. As if he was showing him a part of himself he was afraid for Ian to see. Ian understood that, there were many parts of him, he hoped Mickey would never have to see in the light of day, or even the darkness of the night.

 

They shot at targets for close to an hour, and then Mickey took Ian to a place of his own.  It was a bluff, like a cliff, and as the sun was setting, Ian was sure it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

"how?"

 

"I find things, artist mind I guess. My sister once told me...that she finds the beauty in words, because she writes a lot down. And I see the beauty in the world, In a world that has so much dark bullshit in it. It's my thing. I found this place, and I have drawn it so many times, that I don’t even have to see it anymore. I figured it was something you needed to see."  Ian nods at him, he knows he's right about that.

 

\--

 

Ian and Mickey get back to campus right before curfew, and Mickey stops before heading to his dorm.

 

"Ian?" He asks. "You think you want to stop caging yourself yet?" He asks and Ian smiles.

 

"I think I would yeah." He answers honestly. "As long as you keep showing me the beautiful things that I have been missing."

 

Mickey gets closer to him.  "Mickey...would you be interested...This might be stupid and if your not into it....It's fine...Just...would you like to go out with me...like to eat...tomorrow night?" He stumbles over his words, he doesn’t know what he's doing. He really doesn’t. He doesn’t do things like this.

 

"Like a date?" Mickey asks quirking his eyebrow. He can lightly see the traces of a boy who grew up in the life they did when he gives him a look like that. He looks down, wondering if this was a mistake.  "Sure Tornado...I'll go on a date with you."  he says before leaving.

 

-x-x-x-x-xx

 

"Tonight huh?" Mickey says lounging on the grass by Ian."

 

"Tonight,"  Ian says and Mickey nods, working on something in his hand. "What are you doing?" He asks.

 

"Making a flower crown." He says and Ian gives him the weirdest look to which Mickey chuckles.

 

"I know...weird right?" He says knowing what people think of some of the things he does sometimes.

 

"different. Not weird. Why though?"

 

"Because in all of the darkness in life, it's good to see the beauty. Flowers are beautiful, they only last so long, but in the time they are here, they are beautiful. I think life is like that. There is beauty to be had in the darkness."

 

"I like that." He says. "I don't know how you see all of this light in the darkness, but I'd like to be more like you."

 

"You should know Ian, I'm not always like this, at home, the darkness overtakes me, I'm different. It can't be helped, it helps me survive."

 

"We all have darkness, Mickey. Some of us more than others."

 

==

 

That night Mickey shows up at Ian's door with a flower crown he made for Ian and it makes Ian smile. They walk and talk about everything, and Ian thinks he has found the beauty in life. But not in a flower, but in Mickey.

 

When Mickey walks Ian to his door that night, Mickey leans in and kisses Ian lightly, and Ian is sure of it.

 

-x-x-x-x

 

That winter break Ian and Mickey are sad to have to go home, both fearing of what they might find in each other back in the roots of where they came from. They don't walk down the street hand in hand or kiss on the corner, it isn't possible for either of them, they still see each other, however, and they smile at each other, hang out, and see different parts of each other.

 

Mickey finds, that Ian becomes a little more rigged around his family, more like the man he had met at first, but his Ian is still in there, he can see the light in his eyes burning bright as it ever did.

 

 

Ian sees a different side of Mickey, a more brash, hard Mickey, but it doesn’t bother him. In it all, he can still see Mickey inside of those dark eyes.

 

They both count the days until they go back to school, where they can be back in each other's arms the way they are meant to be.

 

-x-x-x-x

 

It's the last night of winter vacation when Lip comes upstairs to announce that Ian has a visitor. He comes downstairs to find a girl, who looks a lot like Mickey in so many ways, standing in the doorway. She smiles at him.

 

"Mandy?" He asks remembering Mickey telling him about his sister. The only family member that he truly trusted. She nods.

 

"Dad got himself into some trouble...I'm headed to a friends...I just thought I would inform you, Mickey has the house to himself...you might want to stop by."

 

-x-x-x

 

Mickey hears a knock at the door and smiles. He silently reminds himself to let Mandy have his secret stash of weed before they go back to school tomorrow.

 

He answers the door to find a very adorable Ian Gallagher standing in the doorway, he thinks for a second he might have ran over here, and he laughs at that.  He moves out of the way to let Ian open the door, and holds out his hand for Ian to grab as the door closes, and leads him into his room.

 

Ian chuckles at the sign on, Mickey’s door. But he stops when he notices the room. It’s not rose pedals on the bed or anything, but it’s clean and it smells nice.

 

Ian is led to the bed where they sit down and Mickey leans over to give ian a soft kiss. He relishes that soft kiss, but his mind speeds up, something happens in that moment that is anything but soft. He wonders what it would have been like if he and Mickey had met before college in this place. Would they have even talked to eachother? He guesses they wouldn’t have really. Afterall  he had heard of the milkovches but had never wanted to cross paths with any  of them. This was different however. He knew tht as much as he knew anything as Mickey touched his face and pulled their kiss deeper, his mind going to a place it hadn’t been…that he had never let it go.

 

Mickey fought his own mind to rush into something he didn’t know if they were ready for but instead stuck to kissing, which he quite enjoyed, Ian’s lips is all he had thought about for days, in fact in the hidden notebook in his suitcase he was pretty sure Ian’s lips were displayed on at least half of those pages.

 

To Mickey’s surprise and even more so ian’s, Ian takes over pushing mickey down on the bed. Kissing lightly on his neck. That seems to be the only encouragement Mickey needs as he pulls Ian’s lips back to his. He slowly flips them over and pulls his own shirt off over his head, then trails his hands under Ian’s shirt feeling his chest, feeling every curve, and commiting it to his memory. He slowly removes Ian’s shirt, pulling it over his head and places light kisses down his chest.

 

Ian briefly lets the thoughts that tell him to stop this, that he shouldn't let himself have this, consume him, but he takes a deep breath, he does deserve this, he wants this. Wants to feel this with Mickey. He could wait until they were back at school, but he doesn’t really think he can pull himself away from Mickey, especially, with Mickey kissing lower, and starting to undo his belt.

 

They continue to make out softly while they undress each other down to their underwear, and just turn to lay next to each other, kissing, and enjoying being with each other after this week of so much time apart.

 

Ian trails his finger along the hemline of Mickey’s boxers. At first he starts to remove the boxers slowly, but then something in him takes over and he trails down Mickey’s body, pulling swiftly and watches Mickey spring free.  He revels in the moans that come from Mickey as he licks up and down the shaft, finally filling his mouth with Mickey’s cock. He starts of slow, moving methodically, until he gets lost in himself, chasing each moan, each arch of Mickey’s body. It amazes him, how needy Mickey is becoming for him, because of him. It’s too much to take all at once, he moves off of Mickey looking up at him, a silent question and Mickey nods and points at his side table. Ian moves to get inside it to find the lube. Mickey holds out his hand for the bottle, not saying a word, but instead his eyes are filled with something akin to passion, want need. It stills his breath for a moment.

 

Mickey starts to work himself, prepping himself for Ian, he motions for Ian to take his underwear off, so he can get a look at him. and when he does, his eyes widen, making himself even harder at the sight.. He was so ready for this. He felt his need to take some sort of control of the situation take over him as he got up, asking Ian to lay down. Ian nodded and did what was asked of him. Mickey crawled over Ian, stopping for a moment, to taste Ian. Getting the other man harder, by licking and sucking the tip of Ian’s already hard cock. Before moving off of him, to place himself above Ian, slowly sinking down on Ian until he was complety seated on Ian’s cock, moaning out in pleasure and a little pain from being stretched. He begins to ride Ian slowly, rolling his hips and rocking back and forth.  Ian is moaning at the rhythm, and Mickey is arching his back as he bounces, chasing his way to the edge.

 

Ian suddenly grabs Mickeys hips stilling him, and begins to drill up into him, slowly at first and then harder, losing himself in Mickey. Mickey reaches down to touch himself but Ian stops him, slowing down so he can carress Mickey himself, bringing them both to the edge. Mickey starts to move again, as Ian’s hand is working his leaking cock to the edge.

 

“Fuck…Gonna Cum.” Mickey says moaning out and Ian screams out in agreeance, They both Moan loudly together, as Mickey shoots cum all over both of them, he rides Ian a little harder for a few seconds before Ian is shooting cum into his ass.

 

They collapse against each other, holding onto each other.

 

-x-x-x-

 

Ian had wanted to stay and sleep with Mickey all night but he knew he couldn’t, after laying together for close to an hour he kissed his boyfriend, and made his way home. He was almost asleep when his phone buzzed.

 

Mick: So…How did letting yourself lose control feel?

 

Ian chuckled mulling over the thought. He was learning in his time with Mickey, that he didn’t have to be so concerned with every aspect of control and live a boring life as long as he was taking care of himself. Mickey had shown him so many different parts oof himself that he didn’t know existed.

 

Ian: Fucking amazing.

 

Mickey: Back to school tomorrow morning. Meet you for lunch?

 

Ian: absolutely. Bring lunch to my dorm?  Kind of want you all to myself.

 

Mickey: Good. Because I plan on having you all to myself until classes start on Monday. Goodnight Ian.

 

Ian: Night Baby.

 

Mickey: Don’t call me that.

 

Ian laughed, to himself as he told Mickey goodnight one more time. He was beyond happy right now, and not even his family or anyone else could ruin that for him right now, After a few hours with the crazy that was the Gallagher’s in the morning, he was off to go back to school and spent time with his boyfriend.  

                                                                 

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think. As always I adore all of you. :P


End file.
